


House Pet

by CerysKitty



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Hand Feeding, M/M, Pet Play, Pet Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2547281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CerysKitty/pseuds/CerysKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drift's been reading some of Ratchet's private datapads, and gets a few ideas into his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House Pet

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think people realise how much I adore cute, consensual pet play like good lord it just does everything for me
> 
> This fic is entirely self indulgent, and I just dont even care :'D

When Ratchet came in from his shift, the last thing he expected to find in his quarters was Drift, lounging across his berth and idly reading a datapad.

 

Well, Drift was expected. The fluffy, fake Turbofox tail stuck to his aft wasn’t, nor was the ridiculous bow tied around his neck.

 

The oversized bell was just… He just didn’t have any words, though his interface array was starting to have ideas already.

 

“The frag is this?” Drift didn’t reply, just looked up and grinned, and rolled to his back, legs splayed and showing off his open valve. This kid was going to be the death of him, but damn if that was going to stop him. “You lose a bet or something?” Drift just arched and pushed the datapad away, and Ratchet’s curiosity was immediately satisfied when he recognised it, as well as the rather lewd image spread across its screen. The model on the ‘pad was wearing a similar set of accessories, though was doing a much better job of looking like a quiet, submissive pet than Drift currently was. Ratchet picked up the ‘pad and flicked though a couple more pictures and word files and yes this was definitely one of his favourite datapads, one he thought he’d hidden quite well.

 

“Mrr?” Drift ignored the glare directed his way.

 

“You been digging through my stuff?” Drift tried to grin and mewl again, but when Ratchet didn’t budge, he pouted and rolled to sit up on the berth.

 

“I was cleaning up, and you’d left it on the desk. It was turned on, and… I got curious.” He at least had the decency to look admonished. “I’m sorry, I liked the first picture and wondered if there were more. I didn’t mean to root through your private stuff.” He looked ridiculously pathetic, slumped on his berth while that bell tinkled with any minor shift. Ratchet hadn’t realised he’d left it out, and felt a little better at knowing Drift had just come across it, and a _lot_ better when Drift’s words registered.

 

“You liked the look of it huh?” He collapsed onto the berth next to him, and thumbed through a few more pictures, and smirked when he saw how avidly Drift watched the images go past. “Liked the idea of being my pet? Following me around and obeying my orders?” Drift blushed right up to his audials and ducked his head- clearly this wasn’t how he’d expected their encounter to go, and as much fun as Drift was when he was confident and in charge, Ratchet loved it when he got flustered and blushed like that.

 

“…Yeah…” Ratchet took one of Drift’s hands from where they were clenched in his lap, and massaged the palm until he relaxed a little. “I read… There’s a story, the one with the bot called ‘Flick’? I… I like what they did in that one…” Ratchet’s engines revved before he could stop himself. _That_ particular story mostly involved the pet being tied up in a variety of ways, and begging for his master’s transfluid. He had to override his array from coming online when he imagined Drift in ‘Flick’s’ place, eating from his hand and eagerly wrapping his lips around his spike.

 

“You… You look into it much? I mean, I have no idea where you got this outfit from, or what you expect.”

 

“Percy helped, he gave me some ears too but I can’t get them on with my finials in the way.” Which explained the weird pile of fake fur he’d noticed at the foot of the berth. Drift snuck a glance up at him. “Is it alright? I- I thought I looked alright, but maybe I just look like an idiot I’m so-” Ratchet turned and cut him off with a kiss, and tugged him up onto his lap where he could kiss him deeply and stroke his back soothingly at the same time.

 

“You look great, more adorable than usual in fact.” The datapad was discarded, forgotten in favour of the real life frame wriggling under his touch. “Never thought you’d be into this, so didn’t want to suggest it.”

 

“I’d try anything once, especially for you uh, Master?”

 

“Mmm, you should call me that more often.” Drift giggled when Ratchet tickled his sides a little, and he was suddenly very aware of the lubricant spreading on his thigh as Drift ground his still open valve down. “I don’t want to do it like in the story for now, let’s work up to that, alright?” Drift nodded against his neck. “You want me to stop, just say so.”

 

“Can I talk?”

 

“You can be as verbal or non-verbal as you want, and if you want a next time, maybe then I’ll start bringing in rules, okay?”

 

“Mmm yes, _Master_.” Drift grinned up cheekily, though he looked excited when Ratchet reached behind him, and pulled over the fake ears he’s caught sight of earlier. He wondered if Drift got off on the costume aspect, but figured he’d wait until after to ask, and instead reached up to magnetise the ears just behind each finial, petting Drift’s helm when he was done.

 

“You’re fraggin’ adorable kid.” Drift grinned and purred in response, and arched a little further into Ratchet’s strokes down his back. “Now, what should I do with you?” Drift just made another low noise, and leaned forward, glossa poking out slightly to wet his lips. Ratchet tilted his head, expecting a kiss, and just spluttered when, at the last moment, Drift licked the tip of his nose instead.

 

“Mrr?” He looked so pleased with himself, that Ratchet found himself grinning as he wiped his nose off with the back of a hand.

 

“ _You_ , definitely need training.” Drift just looked excited at the prospect, and ground his valve down again, as if to try and tempt Ratchet further, but frag that- it was Ratchet setting the pace, not his unruly little pet. “But what’s the best way to train such a cheeky little pet hmm? Somehow I doubt humiliation and no dinner would work on you.” He needed to test the waters a little, and when Drift’s smile faltered and he dropped his gaze to the side, Ratchet had his answer. He pressed a soft kiss to the centre of Drift’s forehead and held him a bit tighter before pulling back with a small smile. “Positive reinforcement it is then.”

 

Drift looked confused for a moment, but quickly obeyed when Ratchet pushed him slightly to get off, so he could stand up and find things he needed. While he rummaged in a drawer, he realised Drift was still standing, looking lost and hesitant, and Ratchet realised for the time being at least, he’d have to take a more commanding role. He found what he was looking for, a long scrap of mesh bandage and a pointing stick, designed for giving presentations, and turned back to his pet. Drift leaned eagerly into the touch when he brushed along his jaw and kissed his nose, and giggled when Ratchet licked it in retaliation before he pulled back.

 

“When we’re playing like this, I want you on your hands and knees at all times, okay? I’ll tell you if you’re allowed to stand up properly, but otherwise- yeah, just like that. Perfect.” Drift sank immediately to the floor with a soft tinkle from the bell, kneeling with his hands on the floor between his knees, and Ratchet even noticed how he balled his fingers into a soft fist, to better resemble a paw. Definitely behaviour worthy of a reward, and he sank to one knee himself so he could easily pet and fuss Drift’s helm, paying special attention to the base of his finials and the edges of his forehead crest. “Such a good boy, you’re already so good at this.”

 

Drift lapped up the praise perhaps even more eagerly than the soft touches, so Ratchet murmured a few more ‘good boys’ before pulling away to sit on the berth, to put together a basic toy to play with. Length of bandage tied to the end of an extended pointing stick, voila. Maybe if this all went well, the next time they stopped off for supplies (or because Rodimus got bored again) he could pick up some proper toys, and a pretty collar and leash set, but until then he’d make do with improvising.

 

He was also incredibly impressed that Drift didn’t move an inch from where he was sat on the floor, though Ratchet’s engine rumbled at the thought of testing that resolve later, perhaps by stuffing him with toys and withholding overload. Or perhaps he could see how many energon treats Drift could balance on his nose, while he sat on one of their thicker vibrators. Ideas for next time, which he truly hoped Drift would be up for.

 

For now though, he flicked the end of the bandage at Drift’s face, and nearly burst out laughing at the indignant look Drift gave it. Another flick, and he let it rest on Drift’s nose, causing him to cross his optical input to look at it, though pulled it away just in time to stop Drift managing to suddenly catch it in his teeth. Drift usually tried to hide the uncommon fangs he sported from his time as a Decepticon, but as he tried in vain to catch the toy with his mouth, Ratchet felt they looked oddly fitting.

 

He was snapped from his idle thoughts when the toy was nearly tugged straight from his hands, and he looked down to see Drift looking inordinately pleased with himself, and growling playfully with half the bandage hanging from his mouth. When Ratchet tugged, Drift tugged back, and there was a small tug of war until Ratchet stopped and firmly said “drop it”, tone of voice clearly showing he didn’t expect a refusal. Drift did, almost reluctantly, though it was still enough to earn him another ‘good boy’ and a helm pat, before Ratchet was teasing him with the toy again.

 

He was having too much fun watching Drift concentrate on the toy, though his reflexes were fast and actually kept Ratchet on his toes, and he caught it a couple more times before Ratchet decided it was time to play a bit harder, and started flicking the toy quickly, barely letting it stop before moving it again. Drift, trying his hardest, was left open mouthed as he gnashed at thin air time and time again, until in the end he growled and snapped up, catching the tip of the pointer stick in his mouth, and staring at Ratchet triumphantly. Ratchet was honestly impressed, though more than a little amused when he lifted the stick and Drift rose up on his knees to keep it, balled hands coming up to knead at thin air and keep his balance.

 

“Clever boy. Drop it.” And Drift did so, instantly this time, falling back to his hands gracefully and watching him to see what happened next. He pouted when Ratchet put the toy to the side, though it didn’t last long when he got another stroke to the helm. “You’re far too good at that, might have to get a laser pointer and try out those reflexes of yours.” Well, he could test his reflexes, though he was a little more interested in watching Drift scamper around on hands and knees, where he could catch glimpses of his wet valve as the tail swung about.

 

Yeah, he should perhaps start moving their play towards that, and his spike was definitely in agreement.

 

“Follow.” He stood and walked a little slowly, getting an idea for how Drift moved on all fours; his arms and hands were fine, though the protrusions on his knees meant that he had to be a little careful, and he ended up swaying his aft a bit more than others might, which was by no means a problem. The bell jingled with each ‘step’, and Ratchet was already looking forward to the noise it’d make when he drove into Drift later. Until then though, he wanted fuel, and he knew Drift would never turn down a cube, no matter how full his tanks.

 

Moving into the sitting room part of his quarters, he picked up a couple of cubes, a box of treats, and managed to find a shallow dish that would work as a bowl for now, and then slumped onto one of the sofas, cracking his own cube and drinking a few sips. Drift settled patiently in front of him, though watched him and the cube eagerly, and shifted slightly when Ratchet ignored him and kept drinking.

 

“Mrrrrrr?” He didn’t blame Drift for his confusion, as when they usually fuelled together, Ratchet always made sure to give Drift a cube first. That was outside of their play though, when on equal footing.

 

“Pets wait until their master is finished eating first.” And Drift slumped, but settled easily enough, and watched him quietly as he finished the last few sips of his cube. He didn’t immediately crack open Drift’s cube, preferring to see how he’d react when it was withheld, and after a few moments of quiet Drift let out a low whine, so Ratchet figured it was best not to push it much further. “Hush, I’d never let you go hungry.” Drift tilted his head and stared at the dish when Ratchet placed it on the floor in front of him, and when he poured half the cube in, he saw Drift’s audials visibly pinken as he blushed and hunched down a little. Worried, Ratchet lent down to bring a hand under Drift’s chin and tilt his helm until Drift was looking into his optics.

 

“Is this too much? You can speak.” He asked softly. Drift had done some messed up things to survive in his time, and Ratchet couldn’t always tell what might bring back bad memories. Drift has to reset his vocaliser a couple of times, but when he spoke his voice was small and hesitant.

 

“I-it’s fine. Just… Weird.” Drinking from a bowl on the floor was weird, but playing with a pet toy and wearing a bell around his neck apparently wasn’t. He’d never really understand the way Drift saw things, but he’d do his best.

 

“Weird because it doesn’t feel right, or because it’s shameful? Or something else?”

 

“It’s… A bit embarrassing?… I…” Drift shuffled a bit closer, and rested his head more fully in Ratchet’s hand. “I don’t want to mess up, and you’re watching me so… I just want to do it right.” Ah, just self-confidence, or the lack of it, rearing it’s ugly head. He could deal with that.

 

“You’re doing so well already, you’re perfect Drift.” He sank to the floor to be in a better position to kiss Drift’s forehead and stroke his jaw. “There’s no right or wrong way in this, and it’s my job to teach you what I want from you. When you wear that bow, or a collar, or even if you just say you want to be my pet for a while, it means you don’t have any responsibilities. You don’t need to overanalyse or think things through, just listen and do your best. If you mess up a little, I’m the only one who’ll know, and it just means I need to teach you better for next time, and we can try it again until you get it, or we can just stop. It’s all up to you, your only responsibility is to tell me when you’ve had enough.” Drift had slumped against him, tension gone as he thought Ratchet’s words through, and he held him close until Drift moved his head to look up at him.

 

“What do you get out of all this? It seems a lot of work, being in control all the time…”

 

Ratchet didn’t really know how to express the way Drift just _looking_ at him, waiting for instruction was both incredibly relaxing, as well as arousing. He fumbled for words a moment, but managed to spit a few out.

 

“I… You know I like being dominant during interface and in other games we play, right? This is… It’s similar… But it’s relaxing too, I don’t really…” He stroked Drift’s back as he thought on it a moment. “Pets don’t talk back, or expect anything of you. I can just relax, and play with you how I feel, but instead of having a submissive and you following my orders and doing stuff _for_ me, I get to do stuff for _you_ , and that’s… It’s nice. Others get off more on being able to order their pet about, or the humiliation aspect but I… I just like having something cute to hold and look after.” It barely covered a fraction of the feelings he felt, but he hoped it was a good enough starting point.

 

“…I like being looked after.” The confession was mumbled into his chassis, and Ratchet tightened his grip and nuzzled the top of Drift’s helm. “…I want to keep trying, if that’s…”

 

“I’d like that too.” He pulled away, and smiled at Drift reassuringly as he backed away enough for him to be able to bend and get to the make shift bowl. He didn’t sit back on the couch, instead sat next to Drift and stroked over his neck comfortingly as he hesitantly bent and tried licking at the energon. “Good boy, just like that.” Clearly his words and touch helped, as Drift became bolder with a few more tentative licks, until he was lapping it down hungrily, spilling a few drops, but nothing Ratchet would complain about now. When the bowl was nearly empty, Ratchet topped it up with the remaining energon, and hummed approvingly when Drift dove straight back in, licking it up until there wasn’t a drop left in the bowl, though there was more than a few around it and on Drift’s face.

 

It was expected though, and later he’d teach Drift how to do it better, but for now he pulled a clean cloth from his subspace, and wiped the mess off his face as he trilled praise at him. Drift seemed more settled, and as eager as he was before they had to take a break, and Ratchet felt it was probably a good time to start turning this towards the more sexual side of things.

 

Easing himself back onto the couch, he blatantly spread his knees wide so that Drift would know what was coming, and was pleased when he happily shuffled to sit between them, though Ratchet kept his panel closed for now.

 

“Still hungry?” He pulled out the box of treats, picking one out he knew Drift liked and rolling it between two fingers as Drift watched with a slightly open mouth. When Drift had been patient for a few moment, he dropped his hand and let Drift take it, his own arousal creeping ever higher when Drift took it into his mouth, and licked the residue left on his fingertips. Drift’s optics dimmed as he sucked it slowly, savouring it in a way that Ratchet had had to teach him- previously, he’d wolfed down any and all food, never stopping to even taste it, and it had been a gruelling process to teach him to savour the damn things, instead of scoffing several hundreds worth of shanix in less than a minute.

 

When he’d finished that one, Ratchet held out one more, though pulled it back just before Drift could get it, leaving him with his glossa poking out as he pouted, though waited patiently still. Another few moments, and Ratchet let him take it, and the pleased purr had him forcing his interface covers to stay locked.

 

The next one, he crushed in his hand, then offered the palm up, and Ratchet actually shivered as Drift licked it all up, and had to stifle a moan when he worked his glossa between his fingers, making sure to get every trace.

 

Next up, was the one he was really looking forward to, as he crushed the treat against his spike cover, slumping and tilting his hips forward so that Drift might reach easier. He saw Drift war with himself a bit, torn between reaching up and staying with his hands on the ground, but he eventually figured out that Ratchet really didn’t care where his hands were at that moment, and brought his balled up ‘paws’ to settle on the sofa between Ratchet’s thighs, as he leant forward to work the energon off.

 

His glossa felt amazing, and he let him know, at which he worked even harder, licking long strokes up and down, and Ratchet barely managed to hold on until it was all gone before he finally let his plating snap aside.

 

He’d thought he might have to check this was okay with Drift, but he was eager and almost vibrating with anticipation as he watched Ratchet’s hands go to the box, and Ratchet had barely smeared the gel over himself before Drift was nuzzling in, and licking it off again. Frag but he wasn’t going to last long, not with Drift lapping at him like that, the perfect image of a pet after a treat. He stroked over his head, which only made him mewl in between licks, and Ratchet could already feel the knot in his abdomen as he grew closer to overload.

 

“This is your final treat hm, don’t spill anything.” Drift caught on quickly, and wrapped his lips around the head of his spike, mindful of his fangs, and sinking as low as he could. He pet over the remaining length with his ‘paws’ and though it wasn’t as stimulating as him using his fingers properly, the image and behaviour got him more revved up than anything. He was close, so very, _very_ close, and when Drift dipped his head just a fraction lower, and wriggled his aft just so, Ratchet was overloading, choking on his own ragged moans as he rested his hand on Drift’s helm, trying not to keep him there, but having nothing else to hold onto. He removed it when Drift rose up, and moaned again when he watched him lick the last few dribbles of transfluid from around his mouth, and just had to slump and collect himself before he could carry on.

 

“G-good boy.” He lifted a lazy hand to wipe off a drop of transfluid that Drift has missed. “Give me a moment…” Drift settled back again, and though he squirmed and rubbed his thighs a little, he did a good job of staying still while Ratchet recovered. He was getting too old for this, but he’d be damned if that stopped him. When he could see clearly again, and felt up to getting on with things, he sat up a little and beckoned to his pet. “Drift…”

 

“Mrrr?” Primus that noise alone already had his spike wanting to pressurise again.

 

“That, was good. Very good. And I think you deserve a reward for it. Come up here.” He pat his thigh, and smirked at how quickly Drift scrabbled up, hands against his chest as he straddled his thigh and tried not to grind down before he was allowed, though that didn’t stop the lubricant dripping onto his leg. Drift’s exterior node was swollen, and Ratchet swore he could taste his valve lips already, but he wanted to save that for another time, so instead slipped one hand behind his aft under the tail, fingers reaching under to play with his valve lips, while he used the other hand to stroke and pinch his nub, delighting in the non-vocal sounds of pleasure and the way he writhed on his lap, the bell on his neck tinkling with every movement.

 

He was doing a very good job of not speaking, and Ratchet wondered what it would take to get him shouting and begging, but it was getting late and he still had a couple more things to fit into their evening first. He managed to angle themselves just right, with Drift leaning back slightly, so that he could shallowly slip two fingers into Drift’s valve from behind, and another two from the front, stretching him and pressing against the first ring of nodes while he pressed hard against his nub with his thumb, and above him Drift was nearly wailing, hands grabbing at his shoulders as he tried to grind down further and stimulate himself more, and Ratchet wasn’t in any mood to stop him.

 

It didn’t take long to get Drift to the precipice, given how worked up he’d gotten during the rest of their evening, and it was with a final hard flick and press against inner nodes and his outer one, that had Drift clutching and trembling, keening his overload as he clenched around Ratchet’s fingers and jolted into his hands. When he’d calmed down enough to be able to keep himself stable, Ratchet carefully withdrew his hands and reached up to stroke along his neck and back again, pulling him down gently to rest against him while he twitched in the final aftershocks of overload.

 

“So good, so beautiful and good, you did such an amazing job for me…” He murmured a litany of praise and could almost feel the way it left Drift feeling calm and settled, and he knew that this wouldn’t be the first time they’d do it, and he was quietly pleased. They relaxed for a while, and he suspected Drift was halfway to recharge, but they still had to clean up before they could go to bed, and with a grunt of effort, Ratchet managed to force his way to his feet, a surprised Drift clinging on for dear life. He might’ve been old, but he was a sturdy build, and could dead lift a mech like Fort Max if he needed to get him onto a hospital table. “Figured you don’t much feel like crawling right now.” Drift shook his head, but didn’t let up on his grip, and Ratchet just hummed and supported him as he made his way through to his private washracks. As ships went, this one was fairly luxurious, with good sized quarters for the officers, and even the general population had shared private rooms, rather than the communal barracks of military vessels. Drift had good taste, if you ignored the Sparkeater incident.

 

With a flick or a switch, the shower came on, and Ratchet settled on the bench, Drift still in his lap as the solvent poured down. Fumbling with one hand, he secured a washcloth and cleanser, and got to work cleaning Drift off, starting at the helm and working down to the waist. Washing and grooming another mech was really one of his secret pleasures, and he especially liked it when said mech was looking so blissed out and purred at every stroke. When he needed to clean off his interface array and legs, Drift scooted to sit across his lap rather than straddling it, flopping the sodden tail to the side as he purred and stretched under Ratchet’s touch. When he was finally clean, Ratchet eased him onto the bench next to him, gave himself a quick wipe down, and then turned on the dryer, pulling Drift up to standing as he did.

 

With gentle hands, he unclipped the ears and tail, laying them across the bench to dry out, though Drift stopped him when he went to remove the bow.

 

“Can I… Keep it on, for the night?” He looked so hopeful, that Ratchet couldn’t even think of saying no.

 

“Sure, but the bell’s coming off. I don’t need to be woken up with jingles every time you fidget.” The smile Drift gave was dazzling, and Ratchet felt himself returning it as he led Drift back to his berth, where he settled back and got comfortable, before patting the space next to him. To his surprise, Drift didn’t cuddle up under his chin like usual, instead chose to ball up with his helm on Ratchet’s abdomen, although Ratchet suspected it wouldn’t last long and that he’d be woken up in the night by Drift sprawling as usual. Though as he stroked Drift’s back and was lulled to recharge by the sound of his purrs, he figured he wouldn’t complain too much in the morning.


End file.
